


"Stay Gold, PonyBoy, Stay Gold"

by OfficialTrashBusiness



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is a Sweetheart, Castiel is like father, Castiel is speaker for the reader, DONT HURT THE BABY, Dean is always a hypocrite, Multi, No Romance, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Reader has a small crush on Dean, Reader is just thirteen year old, Reader speaks pretty soon tho tbh, Reader will be a sarcastic son of a bitch, Sam is a Sweetheart, Season 8, The Winchesters get less affection from reader, platonic, reader doesn't speak till later, reader is a mini detective, reader is trying to keep their fort stable, reader tries to help the winchesters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8652346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialTrashBusiness/pseuds/OfficialTrashBusiness
Summary: It was tough nail to bite on, but Dean took Sam’s path after exchanging war-words at each other. The Winchesters packed you inside the sleek and beautiful Impala and drove off...Being a quiet thirteen year old was your thought of payment for the pair. As long as you don’t hold back the brothers you our repaying them every second. Burying your head in your used Stephen King books or tracing your imagination in your sketchbook.Previous Title:We've Made It This Far Kid





	1. Away From River Heights, Now With The Hardy Boys

**Author's Note:**

> English is my second language! There is no romance going on here.

You didn't mean to be such a burden. You really didn't. It has been only a few months since the brothers decided to take you in. You could still hear their loud-divorce-like arguing. Whether they should drag you through the states or leave you with your bitch of an aunt. The voices of Sam and Dean clashed together as they debated which path to take. You stood in the old motel room as you watch their silhouettes swing around the neon light. They were both reasonable about their choices with you. You would always be underneath a blade or living with your junkie aunt. It was tough nail to bite on, but Dean took Sam’s path after exchanging war-words at each other. The Winchesters packed you inside the sleek and beautiful Impala and drove off. You don’t talk to them much though. Only sending a few lines of words to the angel companions him to telephone out for the brothers. You normally vent your feelings towards Castiel. The sweetheart of a angel sucked in your insecure questions and grind up some honest answers. You brighten up a large smile for the adorable angel, but nothing for the Winchesters- maybe a very small smile, but nothing less, nothing more. Castiel was an awkward, which you could relate to, and a foreign actioned angel- he was quite adorable in all honesty. Though Castiel could pay some visits, you enjoy his stays- you sometimes wished he could come often when he flapped away. Being a quiet thirteen year old was your thought of payment for the pair. As long as you don’t hold back the brothers you our repaying them every second. Burying your head in your used Stephen King books or tracing your imagination in your sketchbook. Anything that would distract you from moaning in boredom. Today was your average week of monsters. Nothing too big to deal with. The soft arrays of gold and yellow shined through the window, and the pine trees were a green jade. The soft bumps of the roads gave you a rhythm to hum to. It does sound alot like the chorus to Renegade, you thought to yourself. You hummed the words to the song while bobbing your head; maybe making up some that rhymed the last line. You stared out the opposite window and tapped your knee like a drum set. The jig is up, the news is out. They've finally found me The renegade who had it made. Retrieved for a bounty, You hummed to yourself. The song played throughout your head with it’s addicting theme. The pine trees swiftly past by and disappearing from the back of the impala. You took a long strenuous glare at the old fashion clock as you continued buzzing the melody through your throat. It was at the current of 6:30 am, you finally managed to figure out as you repeatedly sang the chorus again.  
A deep, amused chuckle came from the driver’s seat,”I see you picked up some of my taste in music.” Dean commented with a bright and charming smile on his face. Flustered as you were interrupted by the eldest Winchester, you shook your head quickly. Staring down the floor, Dean grinned,”Ah, don’t be so flustered, kid! That song is really catchy, can’t blame ya.”He winked at you; Making you more steamy faced. The movie-star gorgeous Winchester brother made you shy and nervous. Even with his Baby, 70s jams, and good looks; The man was a mighty hypocrite, which you can relate to, and a gasoline filled bottle with a towel ready to be lit by an argument. Dean loves his brother and holds a job for protecting him. The man could get any girl he wanted with a simple sly smile and a wink. Honestly, you did have a small crush on the guy, but that didn’t really matter. Dean was like a beautiful glass piece, but broken and glue many times. The cracks of his glass still shine through. You gave the brother a shrug and awkward smile. Dean only chuckled and shook his head with a smirk staying after his laughter. What a looker, you thought to yourself. Sam, the youngest of the Winchesters, was a big ol’ sweetheart and has the same moviestar gorgeous genes as his brother. Sam believes in faith and has the smarts to go to Stanford, which amazes you by far. Pretty impressive, you thought as Dean told you about him. Ironically, he was the taller Winchester, which stood him at six foot, four- about as tall as a door. You would think Sam was a good guy (romantic wise) compared to his older brother. Though he seems to hold stable, he will crumble when something snaps out of his life; he’ll break down like a tower of duplos once feelings stack up way too high and mass will weigh it down. Like if his brother had passed, he would replace him by being like him as a coping mechanism. From what you were told, Sam dreamed for a better life than being a hunter. He almost lived a “apple pie life” (Dean’s words) for two straight years, but returned with the past of a murdered girlfriend- whom he was going to marry. You mirrored his smile with the same ol’ smile before catching the brown and white sign. WELCOME TO THE BLUFF WHITE BLUFF TENNESSEE, EST. 1869 the wooden and plastic sign flew by as you past it. You felt like you recognized the name of the small town coming close. You clicked out the seat-belt’s hold and leaned on the front-middle seat. You squinted at the coming up town,which stood about ten, twenty minute away.  
“Woah kid. Why so interested in the town?” Dean chuckled out as he glanced at you. You recognized the name, but where? Last trip? No. Sam nor Dean said anything about it.. The name seem too old for your memories. Perhaps it was- White Screamer, you thought with big ol’ eyes. Excitement and fear acted on you like adrenaline pumping through your veins like a bike pump. Holy fuck. It was likely for this lore to crawl into reality. Your eyes slump onto the seat of the impala trying to search for the most recent news paper. You shuffled around older newspapers with your hands. Tossing them in the back to make it more easier while you sort.  
“Kid, what are you scavenging, huh? You seem awfully energized today. Someone put a 5-hour Energy in your shake?” Dean observed with quick glances at you as he drove the impala. You huffed knowing Sam didn’t snatch the latest article. You tapped your index and scoured over the seats while thinking about another alternative. Sam’s laptop! You exclaimed in your thoughts. You wiggled yourself further to the front of the impala; you stretched your arms towards the laptop on the floor of Baby. You huffed again as you failed once more. You looked over to Dean for assistance, but he shrugged and suggested for you to “rattle up” (Dean’s words again) the long-haired male. You inwardly inhaled and squinted at the older Winchester as you folded your hands together leaving two of your index stick together. You exhaled and pointed your finger towards the gorgeous man. You are lucky I’m desperate, you silently said. The handsome man chuckled at your actions. You retrieved a thick newspaper by your jacket from the back and coiled it into a cone-like-shape. That’s when you started to slap the cone-shaped newspaper at the taller Winchester. Sam slapped the cone away and flinched every time you hit him. He swat the newspaper bat away as Dean roared with laughter. You put on a small smile.  
Sam squinted at you confusingly or (maybe) annoyingly,”What in the hell, (Y/N)?” You shrugged and mouthed out an apology. Pointing at Dean, he slapped your forearm with a pearly white smile. You pointed at his laptop on the floor and shrugged with a small apologetic smile. Sam sighed and handed you over his lap top. You thanked him with a pat on a shoulder. Cracking open the computer, you scan the history- ignoring Dean’s history. Finally, you found the recent article that Sam had open up on last case. Skimming the article, you checked off the ‘symptoms’ of the next case. Scattered limbs. Check. Grapefruit sized bites on cows. Check. Weird sightings. check . Random crying/screaming. Check. Burnt grass. Check. Finally, it started in Trace creek. Check. The bumps on the roads rumbled throughout the car. You opened up a document and started to typed down your knowing and thoughts- Including a apology and a “it was your brother’s idea” text. Everything checks out and you rapidly tap Sam’s shoulder. Stars like light shine through your eyes as you excitedly wanted to tell Sam the intel you knew. The younger brother turned around and snatched the computer from you out-reaching hand. Sam skimmed over you quick typing few times, and tried to figure out the typos you made when you typed up the hypothesis. The younger Winchester smiled at you gratefully for your info; you gave him the familiar small smile. Dean quickly glanced at Sam and his computer.  
“So, what did the kiddo type up? A little love letter?” Dean teased.  
You and Sam rolled his eyes, “Okay, so get this..” Sam started the infamous opening. Dean turns his attention towards the younger Winchester. Leaning on the middle seat of the front, you were ready to hear Sam.  
“The article that we checked out back over in Washington--”  
“Yeah, Yeah the one with the dead animals and scattered limbs?” Dean tried to confirm. “Oh and the crazy lady who thought she heard weeping in her house?” You tried to shush Dean with a glare, but he didn’t notice your annoyed eyes.  
“Yeah, apparently our junior knows about the popular local lore.” He chuckled and ruffled your hair. You shook your head out of his ruffling hand, and sticking out your tongue in a childish manor. You began to enjoy doing the research or the typing down your knowledge.  
Dean and Sam chuckled,”Anyways, the local lore is called, White Screamer, it is a white misty form and appears by railroad tracks and by Trace Creek road. The legend started back in the 1920s, when a man and his family heard cries and screams. Once he had enough, he went to scope out the source of the noise. Not seeing anything, the man came back--”  
“And found his family murdered like the M.O.- scattered limbs and animal attacks.” The elder Winchester interrupted the younger one.  
“Yeah, but to add more. The man saw the women in white--”  
“Kinda like the one we hunted over Durant, Oklahoma?”  
“No, you didn't let me finish.” Sam grumbled at his brother’s impatient interruption.  
“She's was a woman in a white mist.” Sam added. Dean lifted his eyebrows in interest.  
“So some spirit?” Dean suggested.  
The younger Winchester shrugged,“Possibly.”  
Your chest tightened.  
~  
As Dean pulled the drive shift into park at the local diner; you observed the socially capable people. A set of anxiety was bulleted into your gut. The time on the road and the lack of communicating made your people-skills rusty. You clenched onto your jacket as a nervous habit. Dean patted the shoulder of his seat,”Come on, sweetheart.” He began with his half of his body out impala. Sam has already shoved the door shut, scanning the view of the diner and mother nature. You made one simple bob, and shoved your arms into your jacket as you cracked open the door and slid out. You shoved your fist into your pocket and stared at the black cement. You stood behind the tall men as they walked inside; Sam using his long arms as an advantage to push the door for you. Pulling your jacket inwardly in an apprehensive manner, slowly entrapping the scenery before you. The fresh hit of potatoes and grease washed through your nose. People gave glares of curiosity towards your way- obvious glaring at the taller men, but the stares make you anxious despite it. You attempted to distance yourself by inhaling the american-greased-foods, but failed at the attempt miserably. The small amount of customers made everyone highly sensitive- no, aware about new faces, you seem to conclude- it was a small populated part of town, so everyone knew everyone. The eyes continued to act like the spotlight, starring the handsome Winchesters and dorky ol’ you. You gave a small shudder. They stared for additional second longer then resumed their activities: eating and talking. The three of you sat in a booth by a window; you sat next to Sam. You entwined your hands repeatedly in various ways as a nervous diversion. A fairly good looking brunette strutted her way towards your table by the counter; Dean obviously spotted her.  
Dean and the waitress gave each other charming smiles,“Hi, Welcome to Sunny's Diner. She purred out her name. As Dean played his words in a flirty and smooth manner. The younger Winchester was seeking for a healthy item to bite on while his brother was playing ladies’ man. Sam and you rolled your eyes and shook your heads.  
She giggled as a flirty response. The waitress grinned and swooned around. ”What could I get for ya?” She finally asks. Sam closed the menu and politely asks for a chicken salad. You almost mouthed his words correctly as he ordered his ‘dead leaves and goo’. Sam shut his menu and handed it off to the pretty lady while Dean orders a “black coffee and bacon cheeseburger”. Dean takes the liberty (as always) and orders you an egg benedict, hash-browns, and ketchup on the side “for the kid” he’d say at the end with a charming smile- if the waitress was pretty and swoonable, which was currently right at this moment. The woman smiled as she finished scribbling down the said orders. She awed,”Well, aren’t you full of honey and spice!” She swooned as she strutted off to give the cook their orders. Dean stared at the girls swaying hips with a predatory grin; Sam shyly eyeballed the beauty as well. You chuckled at the two lollygagging boys. Boys, you thought to yourself with a smirk. The two began to chatter away about the case and tried to figure out the schedule and jobs. both You turned your attention towards the outside world. The weather seemed to be the same like the Winchester’s wardrobe. The clouds seem to be more dim and a rainy breeze. You enjoy the cold and the cloudy atmosphere; the no-sun zone made you feel like you could run in long sleeves. The sight of the peaceful forest was contagious towards you. You take a long hard stare at the darkness of the woods attempting to scare yourself. You only spotted a few critters and the mess dead pine needles. You did a double take. You inhale sharply as a man in plaid stared at the diner with a rifle on his shoulder. The man strided his way towards the diner- fortunately not noticing your stare- you sighed and turned your head elsewhere. The customers continued to buzz as you began to space out.  
“Here ya are.” The same waitress handed out the food with a bright smile. Dean gave her his most charming smile to her as she brought down his plate of food. The waitress winked at him and walked away with a sly smile.  
“Hey, sweetheart.” Dean called out towards her. The aproned lady spun swifty at him with a shiny smirk.  
“You forgot my coffee.” He continued with a smile.  
“Of course.” The aproned lady said with the same sticking smile and brewed up his coffee. In addition, she scribbled something down on a napkin and bit her lip when she was finished. You dug into your breakfast with a satisfied sigh. The hollandaise sauce panned out on your tongue deliciously with the yolk of the egg. You scraped off a portion of the hash-browns and dipped it in the ketchup- acting like a substitute for french fries. You quickly finished your meal with a smile and a silent thank you towards the boys with a nod. Dean chuckled and Sam gave you a weirded out look as a reaction for your fast devouring. Soonly after, Sam has finished up his salad and excused himself to the bathroom. Your head began to dip into the “White Screamer” case. You were really, really intrigued on helping out the boys with case. Knowing the Winchesters, bad luck and trouble always was on their tail. They would prohibit you from digging anything supernatural. You thought up a few scenarios, which only ended up with you needing to be hella a lot ol- You heard loud and cheerful laughter from a younger kid your age. The sheriff beamed with them and ruffled up their hair. You arched your brow, Sheriff’s kid? You question to yourself.  
“What’cha googling over?” Dean questioned as he lined up your stare at the sheriff and the younger being at the counter. Dean shook his head and sniggered.  
“Looks like you got a crush.” He teased. You pouted as you hoofed Dean on the shin. You chuckled as he whined and asked for an explanation. You rolled your eyes and continued to stare down the Sheriff and the kid.  
“Well, why don’t you go and ask them out?” Dean suggested with a smirk. You glared at him and stupid suggestion. He only shrugged at your glare. The sheriff snatched his phone and pulled up against his ear. The next second, the sheriff mustered out a few words and a sorry towards the kid. You glance down on your lap and saw the quick blur of the sheriff.  
“Here ya are. Sorry for the inconvenience.” The waitress placed down the steamy coffee and napkin under it. Dean thanked the waitress ravishingly. Go! Now! You’re gonna regret not goin’ over to the sheriff’s kid! You screamed to yourself. You placed one foot out of the foot and started to overthink. The waitress hung over the table a little longer. You flung yourself over to the sheriff’s kid nervously. You sat yourself on the worn out cushions.  
“Hey.” You sputtered out. The kid turn their head towards you with a solemn stare.  
“Hey.” They mumbled out as they played with the end of their utensils. You stared at their hand quietly as the chef yelled out someone’s order.  
“I’m (Y/N).” You greeted quietly.  
“Raymond.” He stated dully as they took one glance at you.  
“I’ve never seen you around.. You from here?” Raymond questioned as he let his utensil fall on the plate and twisted his stool.  
“No, my dad and uncle are working the case here. The one that looked like-like the-  
“White screamer did it?” The african american interrupted with interest.  
“Y-yeah,” You nodded with furrowed eyebrows.  
“My dad and uncle are FBI. They decided to drag me around since they wanted me to get into the family business.” You added with a guilty feeling in your stomach. Raymond widen his eyes surprised when you stumble out federal agent.  
“The FBI are here?” The boy questioned, astonished.  
“Um, yeah. Their supposed to make a good impression on me for the next five years till college.” You stated awkwardly.  
“But, honestly I have no idea why my dad wanted me to come if I’m not going to do anything, am I right?”  
“Yeah, that’s just boring and utterly useless.” He commented.  
“Wait,” You began.  
“Isn’t your dad the sheriff?” You asked eagerly.  
“Yeah, but it sucks sometimes.”  
“You see my dad and mom are divorced and my mom has the business days, but my dad has the weekends, which he works excessively.” He murmured sadly. You frowned as well, you grasped at the divorce parents subject. Your mom and dad fought a lot, you barely notice or had the intelligence to understand why they were yelling and screaming at each other. You would always ask why your mother had big fat tears running down her red face. She would say,”Mommy, just has a lot of water in her system.” She’d explain. You’re dad wouldn’t speak a thing about the arguments when you would ask. Your mom and dad wouldn’t even sleep next to each other.  
“Yeah, my parents too.” You murmured with understandingly.  
“Hey, if you don’t mind, can you show me some of the files for the case? Like make photocopies?” You shyly asked.  
“Maybe copies of the surveillance? If it’s not any trouble. ” You added.  
“Oh, no. I can’t do that. My dad would kill me if I did that!” HE exclaimed. You bit on your cheek and thought about another workable option.  
“What about if you take me to the office? I mean I’m sure your dad would take you to his office sometimes.” You suggested.  
“I don’t know..” He muttered.  
“What do I owe you?”  
“What about you solve this case within a week, so me and my dad can spend more time with each other.” Raymond bargained.  
“I’ll do my best, sir.”  
“Alright, cool.” He said with a smile.  
“I’ll meet you at the motel over by Trace Creek road.” You instructed. The sheriff’s boy looked unsure, but nodded.  
“Gotcha, call my dad at the sheriff’s department and ask for me when you are ready.” He stated as he snatched the pen from the register near by and drafted the sheriff’s number. Snatching the  
written on napkin.  
“Thanks, I owe ya.” You patted him on the shoulder and smiled.  
“Be safe.” You added as you slid off the stool and made your way towards the booth.  
“Nice. You got their number! Atta’ girl !” Dean exclaimed with a proud smile. You rolled your eyes and sat back down.You smirked as you looked outside once more. You began to start liking this.


	2. Let's Go George! We've Got Sleuthing To Do

You and the Winchesters hauled ass when Sam was done with restroom. As said, they went to the hotel a few miles or less from the diner. A few hours later, the Winchesters posed as FBIs (as suspected) and had explained to you that Sam was going to the local library for death records and Dean was going to go question the victim’s family, friends, neighbors, etcetera. You scribbled down that you wanted to tag along with Dean.  
“Kid, no. That’s all kinds of suspicious if I bring you with. I’ll look like the babysitter from the pacifier.” He declined with furrowed brows. You could tell the man was serious in a instance, but you still chuckled at his reference. You ripped out the motel pads used paper and wrote down another set of words.  
Oh, come on Dean! The kid I- You huffed, but continued to scribble down. Crush on is the sheriff’s kid and I want to hang out with them! You might as well drop me off by the sheriff’s while you do your investigation! If he’s not there I can go poke a dead rabbit or something! We’re going to be here for like a week or so, but might as well make a move. You wrote down as an excuse. Dean muttered out a “I knew it” as he read your draft of words. Dean straighten out his suit jacket.  
Dean tighten his jaw and glanced over to his brother, which he shrugged as an answer. “No is no, young lady and you are grounded!” Dean exasperated. You and Sam gave Dean a questioned glare, which Dean shrugged to. “What? Shut up. I always wanted to say that.” Dean explained as he snatched his false badge and left with his brother tagging along in his suit.  
“You’re going to be in your room when I get back, right?” Dean tried to confirm as he popped his head through the door before he left. You nodded, rolling your eyes at the older brother. You stalled for a couple of seconds and raced to the motel phone. Fumbling out the crumpled napkin, you punched in the digits quickly. The phone buzzed, indicating the other side of the line was calling out to be picked up.  
“Hello?” A adult male reached out for you answer.  
“Hi, yes. Is the sheriff’s boy there? Raymond, is Raymond there?” You asked fumbling with the hem of you thin hoodie nervously. Calls weren’t your friend, the only thing it gave was anxiety and a stuttery tongue.  
“This is the sheriff’s assistant. Who asks?” The man demanded for a name.  
“I-I’m his friend, (Y/N), C-Can I talk to him i-if he’s there?” You stuttered out as you began to two tear the corners for the crumpled napkin.  
“He’s not here at the moment. Would you like to take a message?” He insisted politely.  
“Oh okay. Just tell him that I called and that I will walk over to the sheriff’s office soon if not the sheriff’s than the diner.” You explained softly.  
“You know girly, you shouldn’t walk out in the forest alone with a killer on the loose.” He advised with a concerned tone. “A k-killer? I h-haven’t read the newspaper l-lately, so forgive me.” You sputtered out a lie as you stared at the thin, stained drapes that belonged to the hotel.  
“Well, there has been multiple killings and I wouldn’t want you to get- well, murdered! You understand?” You hummed in agreement, and scold yourself for being so idiotic and clumsy.  
“I’ll try convince my dad for a ride to the sheriff’s office.” You stated, trying to come up with a random subject. Maybe Castiel can give you a ride if it’s not too much for him, you thought out.  
“Alright, well you have good day, Ms.(Y/N).” The man chirped.  
“You too, sir.”  
“Bye, Bye.” He farewelled.  
“Bye.” You clicked off of the line and landed on your back, stretching. Springing back in a straight sitting position, you began to pray for Castiel. Hoping the angel to do you a favor (like he always does with guilt striding on your back.  
“Dear Castiel, I know you have done so much for me and I wish to repay you back even though I do not know how. So, I have one last request before I return the favor.” You mumbled out as you enclosed your fist together and shut your eyes tightly.  
The swift and soft flaps of feather tickled your arms, giving you goosebumps. Snapping open your eyes to spot out the adorable angel, you twisted your head over to the hallway of the motel room entrance.  
“(Y/N), what is it that you want to request at this moment?” He questioned as he padded his way towards you. His lengthy trench flapping besides his legs.  
“I was wondering if I could get a ride..?” Your statement turned into a hesitance question. You beamed up a awkward smile and a tight shrug for the father-like angel. The angel smiled and shook his head as he glanced at the stained carpet.  
“Is that what you wish for?” He questioned, making sure you won’t ask him multiple other requests. You shook your head and proudly chirped a “Yes, sir!”. The angel let out his usual chuckle and shook his head once again.  
“Where would you like me to ‘zapp’ you too, (Y/N)?” Castiel inquired.  
“The traffic surveillance, the evidence room, and the files and records rooms!” You exclaimed happily that he was agreeing to your small (Maybe big) request. “Please.” You added. The angel arched his brow at you as you requested to go to the sheriff’s office.  
“Such a polite, young one.” You overheard him murmur with a grin showing through his tone.  
“Why do you wish to go to the sheriff’s office. Let alone go to the traffic surveillance, the evidence room, and the files and records, (Y/N)?” Castiel interrogated. You smiled suspiciously as he gave you a questioned glare.  
“Damn you and your questioning stares.” You muttered as you squinted at the angel.  
“Don’t tell Sam and Dean this, but I want to help with investigation.” You admit stiffly. The angel gave you a puppy stare of confusion.  
“Why would you want to partake in such a thing? You know the hunter's life is very rebellious and dangerous.” He stated with some blob of emotion you couldn’t comprehend. You shrugged  
“Well, because I have nothing to do and I know that’s such a bad excuse Cass, but this case has given me a Nancy Drew vibe. I’ve been itching the feeling for a while now. But, I just ignore it.” It was true. Being part of the homicide investigator crew has been your dream job. The fact you had to lie and live life on the edge started to scare you once you processed the hunter’s life. But, if you continue to be dragged around with the boys. Might as well do something similar to your dream job. You should at least have a little taste of adventure, right? Wow, why couldn’t you explained that to your close angel friend?  
“It’s just..” You began with a small smile.  
“I want to stick a foot in my dream job just for one day, Cass.” You explained.  
“(Y/N), you know Dean and Sam would be very angry with you. They do not wish for you to “stick a foot” in a hunter’s despite how mediocre it is!” The angel explained his warning.  
“Please Cass, this just paper work and snooping around.” You pleaded.  
“And you can accompany me when I snoop!” You added.  
Castiel sighed as he rolled his eyes about your proposal. You sent him a pleading look. He nodded and sigh in frustration at his weak will power. Loud neighbors talked loudly as they passed by the room.  
“Very well. But, if I say we leave we leave, you understand?” He conditioned with his gravelly voice. You agreed with an excited smile as you went to grab your worn out birch brown messenger bag, the newspaper Sam had snatched from the diner’s newspaper dispenser, and finally your notebook and pen.  
“Let’s go, Cassy!” You exclaimed excitedly. The angel groaned at the name and started to regret for exciting you.  
“Which room?” Castiel questioned.  
“Let’s head to the files and records please!” 

Zapp.

You fell over. Castiel stared at you with an arched brow as you plucked yourself from the carpet floor. You huffed as your shooed off the non-existent dust. You took in the file cabinets and shrugged. “Not too shabby, sheriff’s office.” You commented to yourself. You flipped open the messanger bag and plucked out the news paper.  
“Ok, so the latest on the papers is a lady named,” You voice out the women’s first and last name. You skimmed for the approximate death date or uh time and when they found their body. You hummed out a concentrating tune and mumbled out the death time and the day they found her corpse.  
“November 11th was when they found her scattered parts. The approximate time of death was around 8:00 am. The neighbors complained about the constant screaming, which they thought were just kids fooling around.” You explained briefly as you tapped your foot. Castiel was hunched over you as he read the article as well.  
“Why is that they conclude that it was just screaming children?” The angel questioned. You turned your head to the taller figure, Castiel was squinting at the words in confusion. You chuckled at the man. The neighbors did act quite suspicious,though. But, you can’t always jump to conclusion.  
“My friends would do that just to freak people out in all honesty.” You shared. The two of you searched for the ladies name in the alphabetically organized filing cabinets, which you enjoy. You continue to do for about thirty minutes, searching on the computer for other victims. You honestly enjoyed working with the angel as he scavenges and you dig up the next vic to look up. You and Cass switched up the roles once, but Cass and his inhuman mind didn’t agree with the machine. So, you continued to type up the five or so vics. The vics line up to all female in a strange way. All in their late thirties. But, why would it go after women?  
“Sheriff! There’s another body found at (insert street name)!” A man yelled as he swiftly jogged past the room you are both in.  
“Another one?” You questioned underneath your breath, you arched your brows.  
“Another one again?” The sheriff exclaimed with frustration as he ran outside the exit. You shuffled the papers, aligning them together as you watched the sheriff and his partner run off.  
~  
After checking the files and records, you and Castiel went to investigate the evidence room. Which lead you to nothing, but just a silver hair with a Q-tip cotton size of soft and mush scalp. You tuck in the labeled zip locked bag in your messenger bag. You arched your eyebrow,”(Y/N) I hate to go against you, but are we putting these back?” Castiel questioned. You nodded your head.  
“Uh, yeah.” You muttered as you continue to frisk for any other evidence. You shuffled other bags for more evidence with the trench coat wearing friend. You lick your lips nervously as you dug deeper. Your hands were empty once you yanked back your hand- finding no evidence. Castiel came up with a bare hand and a slanted thin line on his lips. After finding bupkis from the evidence room, you moved to the storage room for the traffic camera recordings. You laced your fingers around the cold metal knob-  
“(Y/N), I'm back!” Sam called as he banged on the door. You threw off your shoes and threw your messenger bag. You yanked the door knob and pulled on the door. The tall man smiled at you as you gave him a small smile.  
“Hey, (Y/N) why didn’t you take your bag?” The taller Winchester asked as he threw his thumb over his shoulder. You gave him a simple shrug, he chuckled. Sam peeked over you and spotted Castiel stand next to your bed. The Winchester tilted his head in confusion.  
“Cas,” Sam began. Dammit! You thought as Sam’s eyes pierced his eyes at your close angel friend. Sam open his mouth and closed it like a fish. Sam pointed at Castiel, confusion twisted in his face and form.  
“What in the hell are you doing here?” Sam interrogated. Scraping your fingers on the edge of your sleeve nervously, you shifted your weight back and forth.  
“I’m gonna go grab my bag!” You swiftly stated as you scampered off to the unlock motel room before same said any form of a word. Fuck. Your eye was stretched to the point your eyelids felt sore. You've said something to Sam Winchester. Honestly, you felt like you lost a bet. You've kept it up for so long, dammit! You scanned around to try to find your duffel bag. Once you found your army green duffle bag, you snatched it up and hooked it not your shoulder.  
“(Y/N), it's good to hear your voice.” Sam smiled as you showed up in front of the cracked open the door. You gave Sam a nervous chuckle and started to bounce your eyes around. Sam sat at the corner of your bed and your messenger bags flap was spread open. Oh, no.  
“But, if you're gonna start yapping. Are you going to explain these?” The Winchester arched his brows as he held out the papers you snatched from the sheriff’s office.  
“I don't intend to ruin your surprise for me.” Sam added. His finger curved around the fan of reports, files, and a zip lock. Your voice was absent, so was your ability to create syllables, vowels, and just noises in general. The saliva in your throat seem to materialize more in your throat.  
You began not to like this.


	3. It Looks Like Soda Pop Found Your Stash, Pony...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning?? I mean the reader is sensitive emotionally, and has a lot of "i'm such a burden" kind of words in it! So uh enjoy and comment below..  
> I apologies for the lack of correct grammar as well as a shorter chapter...

You were physically strong. You could bite your lips shut, only to let out a stifled moan of pain. But, mentally, mentally you couldn’t be criticized about how you act or anything about you. You feel much like a failure and the ruin image of a daughter. Your father’s words were more like a punch in the face than a slap. You didn’t mind being criticized by your mom, friends, brothers, and mostly other beings. Depending on the person reputation you had painted for them, you would react differently each time. You knew Sam would scold you, and you disliked (never hated) the feelings of his future (or anyone’s) angrily-concerned words clout on the face. You know how people could forget to breath? To forget to think due to the lack of air oxygen that was pumping in your heart? To suddenly have no blood pumping to your brain? Kinda like those romance books you read online on your free time. The protagonist (pro) head over heels in love with this person, and they just stop breathing just because they couldn’t handle the blood pumping to fast. Things that happen only in books? Yeah, that was the feeling you were feeling. Except with a plot twist, you are not head over heels with Sam. No, no you are dead over heels in thought of fear. The sweaty residue blanket your hand as Sam continued to stare at you for an answer. Like a math teacher waiting for you to shit out a answer. You read the non-scripted words on the floor, miniature doses of breaths flew in and out of your mouth. A light hand print was placed on the two plates of your shoulders- almost hesitant. You searched for the mysterious being. Only finding Cass’ frosty blue eyes pierce into you. Attempting to skewer the answer out for the tall Winchester on the corner of the mattress. There were more than 1,000,000 words in the english language. Yet, you couldn’t form out a single one. The canvas-mix of green eyes stared at your appalled face.  
“Well?” Sam arched his brow and flopped down the papers at his side. Making you breath normally, yet rapidly. The moose-tall Winchester cuffed his hands around his waist.  
“I can’t exactly read your mind, (Y/N).” He said with a stifled chuckle. You thought he was trying to soothe out your nervous aura.  
“You know hunting is bad and it’s basically suicide! Forgive me for sounding angry, but you know how far you got your foot stuck out. We’ve brought you with us and we didn’t wanting to have some suicide life like Dean and I had grew up with! It was stupid and reckless, (Y/N)!-” You flinched.”- You could’ve gotten into trouble with the police, and you know we already have enough on our shoulders! We don’t need your recklessness right now. You have done enough.” Sam exclaimed with a concern yet frustrated tone. He thread his finger through his thick almond hair, he sighed. You flinched once more as he shifted on the creaky mattress. From his tone, it sounded like you were the burden you thought you were. Proving yourself right.  
“You just stuck your leg way to far over the line, (Y/N).” Fear pistoled it’s way into you. Giving you a anxious-filled and paranoid feeling. The thoughts of the two Winchesters and Castiel painted in your head made you quiver in fear and sadness. Your eyes began to sprout out some tears, only filling them to the brim of your eyelids. You tried not to blink, waiting out for the tears to dry out before it spills onto your cheeks.  
“And Cas. Why the hell did you help her out, huh? You know better than that. She could have gotten caught. You know the consequences for her staying with us and kicking towards a hunter’s life.” The Winchester continued. Castiel did not answer, but you spoke instead.  
“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered out. Your hand balled up and uncrumpled itself, simultaneously. The sweat making your fingertips slippery against your palms.  
“I-I wanted to help. I guess I got too carried away w-with it..” You trailed off without a word leaving your tongue. But, your mind racing with multiple explanations. You were just too frightened to stand your ground against the man. You were being such a burden. Such a fucking burden. You told yourself to stay out of the way while the Winchesters raced around. Instead, you tried to race with them and landed face first. You inhaled the cigarette scented room for settling your nerves down, which don’t seem to help at all. Your gut swirled as Castiel decided to shut the door as a two couples swiftly quickly glance at the scene and continued to argue over something about a kid. The conversation started to kick start another chain of thoughts. Such as your parents, your parents were always pick a side to stay, but in a joking matter. Taking it too seriously (a thing most kids seem to do as they sprout) you would get stressed and said you were a duplicate. Just to make your family smile and a stress free life. Your argument-filled parents could've easily dropped you off in a orphanage or foster home. It would made things smoother for them both, you’d always think. Making a domino effect, you began to think that Sam and Dean would kick you and your luggage of trouble off. A heavy feeling began to materialize in your brain. You would get over it, right? Kinda like how you noticed how happy they are when the other parent wasn’t hangin’ around once you got matured. It made you happy that both of their vocal cords got a break. You could always do the same thing for the Winchesters, but they weren’t exactly you’re parents. Nor did they raise you to be how you are. You just felt selfish. You do your best not to lounge around with your parents. You just only end up sleeping on the job or complaining how you were falsely tired.  
“I just-” You sputtered out a sigh.  
“I didn’t mean to be such a burden, Sam. To you and your brother.” You sniffled, feeling your nose beginning to close up.  
“You both are very kind people and I appreciate that from you both! As well as you, Castiel.” You spoke out honestly as you glanced at the angel right next to you.  
“But, I’m so sorry for meddling into your job. For possibly getting you more twisted in trouble.” You apologized again.  
“Just don’t you ever do that again, Okay? We don’t need to risk you.” Sam warned. Bewildered at his short answer as he passed by you to exit your room with the papers and such, you couldn’t quite understand why he hadn’t expressed his feeling about the matter. You’d expect him to be concerned with an angry tone as he spoke to you. All you wanted to do was cry. You had never been yelled by a stranger, you were the goody two shoe of the class and you just couldn’t process it. Even though he wasn’t your father, he was just close enough to hit the home run for you. You could only bet that Dean would be the closest to your father’s yelling and criticism.  
“I’m sorry, Cass.” You stated with a quavery voice. The cries that your tried to nail down, created a whimper. A tear slid down your face as you sniffled. A frown was cast down onto your face, you could feel the disappointment weigh it down- yours and Sam’s. You knew the consequences, yet you're about to sob your head off like a soap opera actress.  
“God, I’m so weak. Just a simple yell from a person could make me crumble into a dust.” You hugged yourself as you studied the paranoid thoughts streaming through your head as you blankly stared at the stain carpet. Castiel’s hands softly grasped your shoulder hesitantly.  
You chuckled sadly,” I’m sorry, I know you aren’t used to my weird and destructive human capabilities of emotion..” You muttered. You scampered over to the creaky mattress and laid face down. Bundles of sobs soon began to unwind as you stuffed your face into the pillow. You felt Castiel’s hand softly pat your back as you whimpered. You heard the flap of his over coat flutter as you shuttered.  
You were an idiot.  
A burden.


	4. What Is Soda Pop thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy's point of view

Sam had not wasted a breath on telling Dean about your “miniature Nancy Drew detective work”. Instead he kept his trap shut, he didn’t want Dean to implode from a concerning rage towards you just like you he did earlier. It was another burden to be scavenged by the big brother. Sam was quite impressed with how you had persuaded his angel friend, though you are the closest one to him. You were his only voice for the last few months and a the only counseling you had got. If Sam was to be honest, he felt bad for becoming his brother. The concerned abruptions with cuts that wouldn’t scar him, but could scar you. Your parents did died after all. It wasn’t exactly the best to poke a thin piece of skin with a needle. It was an hour or so when he finally exploded and left you with no words. His head was resting on a over-abused, flat pillow with the files on the night stand. 

Your first words to him were “I am sorry..” and “I didn’t mean to..”. It bothered the Winchester somehow. Sam shook his thought away as he blankly stared at the flashing clock. It was just a quarter past three. Dean came barging in by the time it turned twenty-six. Sam flinched in surprise as he slammed the door.  
“So, you got any information on the vics? Witnesses?” Sam questioned as his brother shed off his blazer, throwing it on the creaky mattress. 

“Big steamy pile of nothing. But, there was a new body found after I spoke to the witnesses and neighbors. The sheriff said it was possibly a day old.” Dean muttered as he flopped onto the mattress with a heavy sigh. Sam rolled his eyes as he scanned over the reports you had looted from the sheriff’s department. Dean kicked off his shoe annoyingly as Sam inspected the small yarn of hair (with a small tip of flesh). 

“What about you, Sammy? You aren't geeking out on the computer like you said you would.” Dean craned his neck to Sam and caught sight of the files. Dean arched his eyebrows. “When did you pick that up?” Sam didn’t answer his older brothers question instead he read over the second files. “What you too good after your year break with- who again? That’s right Amelia. ” Sam huffed as he glared at his brother. Of course he was trying to deep digger.  
“You learn something new on your break?”  
“I got it after I went to the library. I had some spare time.” Sam murmured with an irritated clench of his teeth. Sam snapped open the ziplock blog and inspected the evidence. He shifted the perspective of the view by shifting the bagged up item side to side. He quirked his lips, you stole the files. It was a very surprising feature for you. You stealing.. He chuckled. You stealing anything would of been funny on his tongue. Especially you stealing from the police. Sam sniggered from the thought. Dean arched his brow at his brother.  
“What?”  
What’s so funny?” Dean asked with a puzzled smile, attempting to catch the joke.  
“(Y/N) st-” Sam stopped his words. He caught himself nearly falling off of the edge. He almost erupted Dean the volcano.  
“What’s the joke, jokester?” Dean asked impatiently.  
(Y/N) STOLE THESE FROM THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE! Sam sprung up from the mattress and scampered over to the door, obviously opening it. He left a confused Dean behind and tapped his knuckles on your door. 

“(Y/N), open up!” You didn't answer his call. Sam continued to rapidly knock on your door.  
“(Y/N)?” Sam called out again. You didn't reciprocate. Sam finally tugged on the handle- he did try to avoid invading your privacy. The motel room was locked. Sam grumbled a curse as Dean entered the hallway. Sam glancing at his brother out of a human habit. 

“What the hell, Sammy? You ran out like you saw a clown.” Sam ignored his brother's remark, and asked if he had an extra key for your room. Dean rushed back to the room and came back with the identical key. The taller brother snatched the key quickly without a word and shoved the key in the keyhole. Twisting the tool, he unlocked your door and entered without a word leaving his tongue. Sam should’ve asked Castiel to return the evidence and files before the angel disappeared. Castiel disappeared for a while, but magically crawled out of purgatory. It was a turn of events this year for the Winchesters, and Sam didn’t want extra weight when the sheriff realizes that the files were missing. Especially with the Dean’s new buddy.  
“(Y/N)? Kiddo? You here?” Dean called out as he poked his head out of the door frame.

Sam caught sight of you. You rested on the edge of the bed while hugging a pillow (as a source of comfort, he thinks). Sam kept quiet as you sniffled. Dean was oblivious of your position. The taller Winchester’s eyes located your puffy eyes and your glistening cheeks. Guilt furrowed his brows as you twisted your head towards the elder winchester. Dean quickly saw your sorrowed-shriveled face. 

“Sweetheart, what’s with the water works?” Dean questioned as he walked over to you. He kneeled down and stared at you. You gave him the same old smile you always gave to the Winchesters. Dean and Sam seem to see the scratches on your grin. Feelings weren’t exactly the class that the brother aced. You flowed through their water powered arguments; spitting at each other and pouring hurt on each other like some water fight. They pour down on each other so easily, but clean up the messes only to have more. So, like a smart person you held a secret. Just like a Winchester. No problem was spoken, but everyone could see the shrouded intensity between whoever against whoever. Sam and Dean adapted the habit. He could see straight through the familiar behavior he held over a million times. Might as well hold up a neon sign: WELCOME TO THE WINCHESTER FAMILY: WHERE FEELINGS DON’T MATTER UNTIL SOMEONE OR SOMETHING REMINDED US! They were an exclusive family. One and only.

So you say,”Nothing’s wrong. I just miss my family. It was stupid for me to ignore you both.” You sniffled and wiped your runny nose on your sleeve. Dean was astonished at your sudden mumble of words. But, not astonished enough to notice you weren’t lying.

Dean smiled,”You finally got your vocals up running, huh?” His brother ruffled your hair and got up. Dean walked over to his brother and stopped beside him. “You wanted to talk to the squirt?” Dean questioned.

“Uh, yeah. I have to ask her a question real quick. I’ll be out.” Dean could see that Sam demanded to speak with you alone, and Sam did wanted no one in sight. Dean nodded and slapped his brother’s shoulder heavily. Dean called out to you, implying he could be your horrible therapist anytime- awkwardly of course. The taller man gave him a tight smile as Dean exited the room. Sam clenched and unclenched his fist. Sam was at the tip of his words, but you shoved it back. Silence heavily sat on his lungs, shoulders, and head. Everywhere in all honesty.

“What is it, Sam? W-what made you burst in here? Was it really that important?” You mustered out. Sam glanced at the television, not wanting to look at your child-soft, puffy face. The green halo of the older and boxy television glowed- indicating that you were watching something.  
“If it’s about the files and the evidence I stole.” You shuddered- a aftereffect of your sob-fest.  
“T-then I’ll help you call Cas. E-even though he rarely comes to you guys ever since purgatory.” You said dully as your head was down. Sam shifted in his spot.  
“Whatever that is.” You added.  
“I’ll help you. J-just stop come tumbling in my room-” You paused.  
“The room I’m sleeping in for a week. Give me some space, despite the amount of time.  
I’m s-still angst-y teenager after all.” You shuddered again. Sam didn’t like to be his brother as stated. You through some joke just to lift the tension in the room. The both of you didn’t chuckle, making the tension worse. You dug your head into the pillow, Sam only hearing some mumbling.

“(Y/N), what can I-” Castiel’s frosty blue eyes caught sight of the younger Winchester. 

You explained to the angel, asking a request with multiple apologizes. Castiel hesitated, but obliged. Swishing away your apologies with a “no need”. You gave him a big and scratched up smile and thanked him. The angel snatched the papers and plastic bags and flapped away. Sam did as he was told. You needed space. Sam knew that putting the files away was a waste of time. But, he was curious how sharp did the needle make you bleed?  
Sam awkwardly left you alone in the sour smelling motel. He knew that you had to calm down. Being an angst-y teenager and an orphan was a whole lot of crazy.


End file.
